


Temptation

by AppleSeeds



Series: Temptations [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: (But they don't have sex), Bittersweet Ending, Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Dialogue Heavy, Heartache, M/M, Missing Scene, One Shot, Sex Pollen, Suffering Aziraphale, Temptation, The Night After the Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSeeds/pseuds/AppleSeeds
Summary: A different take on the sex pollen trope.Aziraphale gets too close to a particular plant in Crowley’s flat the night after the Notpocalypse and doesn’t like what it does to him. Crowley tries to help him feel better.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Temptations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877767
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107





	Temptation

“Come on in, don’t mind Ligur,” Crowley sniggered as he stepped over the pile of demon goo with a quick glance behind him. The lines on Aziraphale’s forehead deepened.

“A friend of yours?”

“Colleague,” Crowley shrugged.

“Ah.”

“I’ve only got the one bed but you can take it. I can sleep anywhere, me.” Crowley pulled off his jacket and threw it on to the table. His sunglasses soon followed. “Just keep going down the hall, can’t miss it.”

“Oh. Thank you. But don’t you think we should...?” Aziraphale began, removing the slightly singed piece of paper that had fallen from Agnes Nutter’s book from his pocket.

“Tomorrow. It’s been a long day, angel.” Crowley undid his scarf and threw it on top of his jacket, stretching and cracking his back.

“Yes, I suppose it has. Well, then. Goodnight, Crowley.”

“G’night, angel.”

Crowley settled himself with his back against the ceiling, rolled his head over and fell asleep instantly. But he hadn’t been in that blissful void of nothingness for long before he was rudely dragged back into consciousness by the sound of shuffling feet and a timid little voice from below.

“Um... Crowley?”

“Nnnggghhhh! What time is it?” He lifted his head up (well, down). “It’s still dark out!”

“I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but...”

Once Crowley’s brain had been unceremoniously hauled back into a more operational state, he detected the note of anxiety in Aziraphale’s voice and immediately dropped down from the ceiling, landing on his feet and critically appraising his friend. Aziraphale had taken off his jacket, waistcoat and bow tie, the greatest state of undress in which Crowley had seen him for centuries.

“What?” Crowley barked, hiding his concern.

“I’m sorry, Crowley, but I really don’t feel well at all.”

Crowley scrunched up his face. “What d’you mean? You’re n’angel, you don’t get sick.”

“Well, yes, _no_ , I know. That’s what I’m worried about.” Crowley furrowed his brow and took a step closer to Aziraphale. Aziraphale drew in a deep, shuddering breath and touched his hand to his heart.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel sort of dizzy, my heart is racing, there’s something wrong with my lungs, my _skin_ feels like...” Aziraphale rambled, clawing at his upper arms with his fingernails, his arms crossed across his body. His cheeks were flushed, and his breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps.

“Ok, ok, come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

Crowley placed his palm tenderly on Aziraphale’s upper back to encourage him back towards the bedroom and felt Aziraphale’s muscles tense beneath it. Aziraphale sucked in a sharp breath and hunched over, pressing his forearms against his abdomen and letting out a quiet moan.

“Come on, follow me,” Crowley instructed, removing his hand from Aziraphale’s back and marching towards the bedroom. As a little experiment to help confirm what he suspected was going on, Crowley added a little extra sway of his hips as he walked, and heard Aziraphale’s breathing quicken.

“It’s getting worse, Crowley,” Aziraphale complained as he shuffled along behind him.

“Come _on_ ,” Crowley hissed, and Aziraphale picked up the pace, hobbling back into Crowley’s bedroom and sitting on the side of the bed, his arms still wrapped around himself. Crowley cast his eyes around the room. “D’you touch anything in here?”

“No!” Aziraphale defended. “Well, the _bed_ , obviously.”

“Didn’t touch the plant?” Crowley suggested, tilting his head and studying Aziraphale before nodding his head in the direction of the plant on the bedside table, its leaves so dark they were almost black. A small spike rising up from the middle of the leaf rosette supported a cluster of innocuous white flowers. Aziraphale pursed his lips and turned his face away from Crowley.

“Smelt the flowers,” Aziraphale admitted quietly.

“Nnnnggghhhh, _Aziraphale_!”

“What? What is it? Is it poisonous? What’s going to happen to me? I’ve been discorporated more than enough for one day thankyouverymuch and I really don’t think this is the best time to turn up in Heaven asking for another body!”

“Ahh... yeeeuuhhh... naah, nothing like that. Not gonna discorporate you, angel. You’re gonna be fine.” He sighed heavily. “Yeah, you’re gonna be fine.”

“I don’t _feel_ fine.”

“I know. It’ll pass. Try to get some sleep.”

“I couldn’t possibly fall asleep feeling like this! Why would you keep such a thing in your _bedroom_ , Crowley?”

“Well, I don’t go sticking my face into it!”

“How was I to know?”

Crowley sighed again. “You weren’t. I’m sorry angel. I forgot about it, I’m sorry. Haven’t used it for years, don’t even think about it anymore.”

“What do you mean, _used_ it?” Aziraphale looked completely scandalised. “This is some kind of _illegal, mind-altering substance_ , isn’t it?”

“I don’t use it on _myself_ , angel.”

“You do _this_ to _people_?” Aziraphale demanded incredulously, gesturing at his body. “On _purpose_? Oh, well, yes, the perfect demon, aren’t you? And how does inflicting this suffering on someone help to damn their soul to hell?”

Crowley shrugged and it was his turn to avert his gaze.

“S’what it makes ‘em _do_.”

“Well, it hasn’t made _me_ want to do _anything_.”

“Y’sure, angel?” Crowley asked softly. “S’just that it only works when the person smelling the flowers is already tempted.”

He neglected to mention that it also only worked if Crowley wanted to tempt them as well.

“Tempted? Tempted to do what?”

“Nothing,” Crowley sighed. “You’re an angel, it’s just reacting differently to you, s’all. Come on, lie down, you’ll feel better soon.” Crowley gently pushed against Aziraphale’s shoulders, encouraging him to swing his feet up and lie on the bed.

“It gets worse when you touch me.”

Crowley’s heart shattered into a million pieces, but he covered it with a flippant remark.

“I’ll try not to be insulted.”

“Please, Crowley! You must know something that can help! I could really do without this. As you said yourself, it’s been a very long day.”

“I know, angel. I’m sorry.”

Crowley’s normal approach for dissipating these symptoms would have involved them getting much worse before they got better. But he couldn’t do that to Aziraphale, no matter how much he might have wanted to. One day, once whatever was going to happen as retribution for what they’d done was over, maybe then. But only if it was absolutely what Aziraphale wanted, with no external _encouragement_ needed. He scowled at the plant like it should have known better, and it seemed to look back at him indignantly, having merely sensed all of Crowley’s longing to elicit these sensations in Aziraphale and done precisely what it was designed to do.

“I can’t make it go away, but I might be able to make it feel less unpleasant. Do you trust me?”

“I suppose I have little choice.”

“You _do_ , Aziraphale. Of course you do. I can leave you alone and go back to sleep and it’ll pass in an hour or so on its own, I promise. Or I can try to help you feel better.”

“Oh, all right,” Aziraphale grumbled. “I still can’t believe this. There truly is no end to the depths of your demonic schemes.”

“Look, how about first thing tomorrow I stick the plant in the shredder, hmm? Can’t expect me to change overnight, angel.”

“I don’t. I didn’t mean that, Crowley. I don’t expect you to change at all.”

“You want me to help, then?” Aziraphale nodded unconvincingly. “All right, shuffle up.”

Aziraphale scooted over to the other side of the bed and Crowley lay down beside him.

“Come here. Rest your head on my shoulder.” Crowley lifted his arm, waiting for Aziraphale to come closer. He eyed him suspiciously for a moment but then complied, rolling on to his side, settling his head down and snuggling slightly into Crowley. Crowley let his eyes wander down the length of Aziraphale’s body. He evidently wasn’t making an Effort. If he had been, Crowley supposed, he surely would have known exactly what was going on, although Crowley was starting to suspect that Aziraphale had very little, if any, experience of such things. Crowley settled his arm behind Aziraphale and draped it across his back, gently placing his hand on his shoulder.

“It feels worse.”

“Give me _chance_ , for somebody’s sake!” Crowley growled. “Just relax as much as you can for me, all right? Deep breaths. Imagine you’re not sick. Pretend it feels nice.”

“ _Nice_?”

“Yeah... y’know... you said your heart was beating fast and your breathing was messed up, isn’t that a bit like when you’re excited about something? The chance to taste an exquisite new cake, perhaps? Discovering a rare first edition? Finding out that someone’s about to punch Gabriel in the face?” Crowley teased.

“That _would_ be nice,” Aziraphale chuckled into his shoulder.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Crowley grinned and Aziraphale snuggled in closer, nuzzling into him. Crowley started running his fingers up and down Aziraphale’s arm.

“It feels nice, angel. Doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

Crowley pressed a kiss to the top of Aziraphale’s head, so lightly that he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel it.

“You’ll be ok. I’ve got you. It’ll be over soon.”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale closer to him, holding on to him tightly as he used every ounce of strength he had to stop the tears from escaping his eyes. Aziraphale tilted his head so he could look up at Crowley’s face.

“Thank you, Crowley.”

Crowley smiled back at him and a single tear slipped free and slithered down his cheek.

“Any time, angel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This just sort of fell out of my brain this morning. Love these boys so I'm not sure why I feel the need to torture them so much. <3


End file.
